


John's Concerned

by Marianne_Jehu



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Anorexia, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Fluff and Smut, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Johnlock Fluff, M/M, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Has Issues, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Virgin Sherlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:16:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2794436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marianne_Jehu/pseuds/Marianne_Jehu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock's relationship is just taking off when Sherlock's mentality takes a turn for the worse</p>
            </blockquote>





	John's Concerned

John strolled toward the fire place as he looked up at Sherlock's skull. He had always been jealous of the skull, it's kind of ridiculous really. The skull wasn't alive, he didn't think, talk or feel, yet sometimes Sherlock seemed to value the skull more than him. Sherlock staggered through the front door looking drawn and pale.

"God Sherlock! When was the last time you slept!?" Sometimes John felt the need to 'baby' Sherlock as such; he didn't take care of himself well enough. Sherlock's reply was no more than a grunt about transport as he whipped off his scarf and coat. John wasn't convinced he was okay just yet though,

"Do you want some tea? Toast and biscuits too?" John realized his detective probably hadn't eaten the last few days as well.

"Just tea." Sherlock's voice sounded rough and distant.

"Sherlock, you need to eat something!" John was curious at why he was rejecting food, he had just finished a case so it's not like he was working. Maybe he was sick? John shuffled over to Sherlock, who had now made himself at home on the sofa, and placed a hand on his forehead. He seemed to be a little cold.

"What are you doing!?" He protested weakly making no attempt to get him off.

"Checking if you're ill or not." John replied calmly.

"I'm not ill, just tired!" Sherlock croaked as he tried to wiggle away from John's hand. Sherlock managed to escape but stood up too fast and fell back down on the sofa. He cursed under his breath:

"Stupid, weak, fat body! Fuck you." John looked at him in shock.  _fat!?_  Sherlock was definitely not fat! What was he on about?

"Sherlock?" John was worried now, more than usual. "Why do you think you're fat?" Sherlock ignored him and walked out the room.

 

 John walked into Sherlock's room a few hours later to see him huddled on the bed in a ball. He sat down next to him and placed a hand on, what he hoped, was his shoulder. Sherlock's head slowly peered out the cover and he sat up. John looked at him so apprehensively it scared him. Sherlock couldn't take the staring anymore so a suddenly went and kissed him. At first John was in shock, allowing the detectives soft lips press against his but after a few seconds he started to kiss back. He felt magical, like he had been waiting his whole life just to kiss Sherlock. After a few seconds Sherlock pulled away, looking in awe at his doctor. _His_ doctor. John stuttered

 

 

 

Sherlock." He exhaled, still trying to steady his breathing. Sherlock started to apologize but John put his hand round Sherlock's thin waist and pulled him closer.

They were both naked on the bed. John was beneath Sherlock and could see how his ribs protruded. He gasped as Sherlock fleeted over his torso, his ice cold hands caressing his warm body. His hand's touch was enough to know he was loved. Suddenly he could feel the detective’s mouth on his cock. They were both obviously hard. Even malnourished Sherlock was still a sex-hound. Sherlock was sucking so well. 

'This can't be his first time!' Though John, whom had been straight till he had met Sherlock. “The Detective was seducing me.” Sherlock’s hands surrounded John’s broad torso as he tugged him closer. John groaned as sweat ran down his body, glistening in the dim light. Sherlock’s ribs defined as his stick like arms moved to rearrange his hair to it’s usual position, flopped over his brow. His jawline so incredible: perfectly shaded as his ghost like figure scratched John’s back with passion. Slowly, time was forgotten as they made love till they collapsed with exhaustion.

The next morning John cracked open his eyes to find himself on the edge of Sherlock’s dimly lit bed. He turned over to see Sherlock huddled in a ball of sheets.

“Did that really happen?” Wondered John as he sat up and felt the scratches on his back confirming his doubts stupid. He had been sucked off by Sherlock Holmes, the great detective had made him bisexual, who knew he had that many talents? John turned on the radio: it was Ed Sheeran. Sherlock let out a small grunt and shuffled to turn it off, turning on to his back as he did so revealing to John his protruding ribs. John sat down next to him and put his hand on Sherlock’s,

“Shall we have some breakfast? Toast? Biscuits? Porridge? Anything you want.” Sherlock glared at him and shook his hand off.

“Last night was… fun.” Sherlock still had doubts that someone, especially someone as amazing as John, could even like him let alone be _attracted to him!?_ So he needed confirmation that last night was really ‘making love’ as such. John nodded, his eyes looked at him in wonder, clearly remembering last night, and enjoying reliving it. Sherlock smiled in satisfaction and for the first time in his live, felt loved.


End file.
